A Red Passion
by Serenity.Jones
Summary: Blair Wainright was never perfect. Her days went by like hell. Until one day, her terrible anger sparked a power that interested the Batman. When he takes her in under his wing, Bats has her join YJ, will her arrival be a bothersome? RedXOC
1. Downward Spiral

**Young Justice**

**A Red Passion  
>Chapter one<strong>

Five days of a week, normal kids attend school. They get up early to get ready for the day, have a small breakfast, leave early for the education, talk with friends, and go to class. And when the day is done, they all go home late to homework and chores. Eventually when night falls, the students crawl into bed to repeat the schedule again the next day.

At least, that's how I feel about it.

I trudge down the hallway to my next class, keeping my eyes down on the floor to hide the unbearable tears that leak from my eyes. The flood of students pushes past me as I try to squeeze my way around a left-hand corner. Groups of students crowd around the classroom doors, pretending to be so cool to stand out in front of the classroom entryway. The anger in me begins to bubble.

I push my way through the hoard, using my elbows to shove off the people who give me dirty looks. I scowl back at them as I make my way, not saying a word. I enter the room, my backpack feeling ten times heavier than it was meant to be. I look over my shoulder to see the group of kids snickering at me.

Okay, so they have reason to laugh. My blonde hair is a mess, and quite pathetic for me. But that's what I get for attempting to play dodge ball with a group of guys. I can feel how my make-up has smeared from rubbing my eyes to keep the tears from erupting. How are you supposed to react to such a dreadful event? I send them a sickly sweet smile as I turn and head to my desk at the back of the room.

As usual, I happen to be the first to class, since I'm one of those rare people who actually settle in their seat before the tardy bell rings. I shrug off my backpack and fold my pale arms on the desk so I can lay my head on them. And suddenly, I feel so much heartache that I don't care if I look like complete trash. I sniff and sit up, trying to keep a headache from approaching as the class begins with the teacher entering and the classroom filling.

I come from a strong family for Pete's sake! And here I am crying over a stupid boy who dumped me. What would my mother think? Would she laugh at me after I told her the story when I got home? Would she give me a quick hug before diving into a story of her own from her teenage years? Would she… Would she tell me everything would be okay, and that you were too good for him anyways?

No, she wouldn't.

With that, I break down into another fit of tears.

I have a really bad habit of crying, and when I cry, I _cry._ It's like a busted dam, with all the water pouring out all at once, because I'm pathetic like that. Usually, I start with a cough, an awful cough that brings with it tears. Big. Heavy. Tears. Tears that are so powerful, it makes any bystander wonder why anybody would cry like that.

_Because I'm just pathetic like that._

A couple moments into my fit, I feel my teacher's light hand on my shoulder, and she whispers a question to me: _"Do you want to go to the nurse?"_ She's telling me in a nice voice and without the direct words. But I know the answer to her secret code. I'm disrupting her class and she wants me to leave before humiliation sets in for me.

_Because I'm just that pathetic._

I nod my head reluctantly and lift my head from my wet palms. I wipe my hands on my light blue jeans, and send her a shaky smile. "C-Can you write me a pass?" I ask softly.

My teacher nods her head and goes to her desk while I slip my backpack on my shoulders again. We hadn't even gotten through ten minutes into class before I'd started to cry.

"Did you know when you cry, you lose testosterone?" one of the other girls in class loftily informs her friends. They all giggle, and I frown. At least I'm glad that I happen to be a girl in this situation.

The teacher hands me my pass as I realize how _pitiful_ it is for me to be crying at all. As I walk down the aisles to go back out the door, I hear someone whisper, "Yeah, Blair pulls the waterworks trick to get out of math class. I wish I was that much of a genius."

I turn around swiftly and send a hard glare at the person who spoke. Nathan Warner. He returns with a light smile. My fingers curl into fists by my side. My palms are growing hot. There is nothing I could do. The damage is done. My teacher sends me a parting smile, as others wave good bye.

Was I dreaming? No, I couldn't possibly be. This was a nightmare lived, a nightmare in which everybody suddenly hates me for something I can't handle well enough.

_Because. I'm. Just. That. Pathetic._

I storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me thunderously.

In a controlled fast-paced walk, I go to the bathroom. Releasing a frustrated sigh, I shrug off my backpack and look at my miserably at my hands. Everything, from the center of my palms to the tips of my fingers, is singed, as if I just shoved both of my hands into a bonfire for a good few minutes to cook them off their bones.

How did the burns get on my hands?

I dry heave another sob, wishing this day would end. It'd started so badly and it was getting progressively worse. Closing my eyes, I sink to the floor, landing on my knees, and slamming my hands into the linoleum, again and again, until the physical pain hurt more than my aching heart.

Slowly opening my eyes, I know, and feel, the pain I am going through. "Yeah, It sucks Blair, but you, you are going to get over this, because you're better than this," I tell myself in an angry whisper as I stand up. I grab my backpack and wince in pain as I through it over my shoulder. My hands ache not only from my slamming them onto the floor multiple times, but also because of the slight burns.

I leave the bathroom, and make my way to the nurses' office, not even looking at my hands the whole way down.

"Do you have a lighter?"

"No…"

"Well, clearly you couldn't just burn your hands with out something emitting fire," the nurse lectures in a cold, harsh tone. I'm beginning to think that it will be more beneficial if I just simply call it a day and head home.

I frown. "I don't know how they got burned. I just know is that they hurt." I clench my hands, ignoring the pain signals.

"Did you have a chemistry class recently?" the nurse persisted, her eyebrows twitching.

"No! I took that class last year, as a sophomore!" I shouted at her, my knuckles showing white and my heart racing. Are these the signs that I'm having an anxiety attack?

"Okay, well your hands are fine from the bashing, but the burns are going to need medical attention," the nurse concedes, eyeing me carefully.

I gawk at the nurse in shock. Was that not the reason I came down here, to get medical attention in the first place? I glare at her, shaking my head, my mouth still hanging open. "I came down here to get the medical attention I need, because I clearly can't pull supplies from my ass!" I shout at her again.

Then the nurse's eyes go wide.

I follow the nurses' gaze to see the sleeves of my sweater sputtering with flames: Flame that emanated from my arms, licking the skin away like greedy wolves.

In shock, my conscious meets darkness as I fade out in a dead faint.


	2. Batman's Persistance

**Young Justice**

**A Red Passion**

**Chapter two: Batman's Persistence **

In life, I usually wake up with a good start and then it goes south, usually after seeing my mom, who proudly carries her hater stick around and then beats the happiness out of me. Quite frankly, it ruins my day.

But as I try to focus on waking up, I disregard my pounding head. I can hear a low hum of on old tune and a rustle of a leafy newspaper. I force my eyes to open: Despite the tiredness of my body, it scares me that I have no idea where I am or who I am with.

As I blink my eyes open to adjust to the bright light of the room, I find that it is very difficult to even stand the light at all, let alone sleep with it on. I focus on the railing of the bed to relieve my headache from the double vision that is keeping me from pondering the questions that run in circles in my mind.

When I am able to actually see objects clearly, I'm just about ready to cry… again. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that I can't, despite the fact that I've found myself in a hospital room, lying on the bed, completely horizontal in a light blue hospital gown (luckily, I can feel the backing of it). My arms are both wrapped in light brown gauze from my finger tips up to my elbows. They lie on either side of me, palms facing upward. I wince when I try to move my fingers. The pain screams at me in resistance to any movement. I take a deep breath and look around the room, trying to see what I can without moving.

To my left, there is a series of machines and tubes that are connected to me in various medical like places. I wince when I realize that there is a monitor showing my heart rate and another for an IV. I turn my head to the right soon afterward to the sound of a newspaper page being turned. "Hello?" I croak, my voice weak and crackly drunk any water in all the time I've been hurt. How long was I out? Am I still in my home town Valley Falls?

"I'm here," a gruff voice answers from behind the newspaper. I immediately stiffen as I watch the paper being put back together and folded, revealing the man behind it.

Freaking-A Batman.

I stare at him through the bars of the hospital bed, shaking my head. Batman is sitting directly across from me, not even a few feet away. His dark bat mask covers the top half of his head and face, though that does not stop the look of relief that reveals itself by the twitch of his jaw.

And for a moment, I almost think I see him smile, a smile that I thought would always be reserved for my mom.

Speaking of which, why isn't she here? Shouldn't she be here? Worried about me? Wondering where I am? Telling me that I would get better, telling me that she loves me more than her job as she holds my hand? Why wasn't she here telling she didn't like to see me like this?

Did a busy superhero (who didn't even know me) worry about me more than my own ever-busy mother?

I cough back the flood of tears at the thought that mom doesn't care to know where I am. Blinking my eyes, I stop the dam from breaking, but naturally a few tears squeeze through my defenses.

Batman raises an eyebrow as he places his paper on the bedside table that his elbow is resting on. He straightens his caped back and looks at me grimly. Even though I recognize who he is, I am still unnerved by the fact that Batman, the head of the Justice League, is sitting beside my bed waiting for me to wake up. And for a moment I almost feel needed, wanted, and important.

"W-why are you here?" I ask him, my voice breaking on me from the sudden emotions flooding in. I can't let Batman, of all heroes, to see me breakdown while I am already hospitalized. It is bad enough that I don't know the full extent of the damage to my arms. I shift my head to face the ceiling, dreading the answer to my question. Am I in trouble? Who died? Am I part of a mystery that the World's Greatest Detective needed my help solving? I shake my head at the thought, instantly pushing it away.

Batman has Robin of course. He doesn't need two side-kicks.

"To inform you on the situation you are in," he responded, his voice calm, steady, and deep. It reminds me of a leaders' voice. He continues, "Do you know why you're here, in Happy Harbor's hospital?"

I shake my head no, closing my eyes. I don't want to know why I'm in a hospital in the next city over from Valley Falls. "I caught myself on fire somehow," I mumble, embarrassed. Despite the fact that I don't want to really know how my health has been traumatized by fire, I proceed to tell him the story of my day yesterday. Batman does not interrupt me, and that alone makes me feel as if I have some importance. And even though I have the urge to bawl my eyes out again as I retell the events, I don't, despite those sneaky tears. I smile grimly to myself, somewhat proud. Maybe I'm not that pathetic after all.

Batman nods his head at the end of my tale, his mouth positioned into a serious line. "Your yesterday was Wednesday: Today is Friday," he informs me. My eyes widen: I can't believe I've been unconscious for so long, three days. Three days I've been sleeping. Three days that mom hasn't been worried about me.

I cough back tears again.

"You spontaneously combusted while you were in school in a reaction fueled by your anger and depression," he added, making a gesture to my wrapped arms, unwavering. I shiver at the thought: Am I really depressed and that angry?

I swallow, ignoring the pain that is shooting up my arms, "Then shouldn't I be dead?" I ask him softly, barely a whisper. I don't even want to know how he knows about my depression, let alone how he found me.

"No. That's why I'm here," Batman answers, placing his black gloved hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezing it. He is offering _me_ comfort. The Dark Knight, showing kindness towards myself? I just about pee myself from the shock. Offering a small smile in return, Batman adds, "You're special Blair, and don't let anyone think otherwise."

"Well, I don't know," I say with a shrug, now looking at him again. Me and special, in the same sentence, makes me just about laugh.

That Dark Knight of Gotham City looks down on me in a hard glare. "Blair, you received a gift, a gift that you have yet to understand and control for yourself. I believe that, when you can control it, you just might become a great hero."

I blink my eyes, trying to figure out all this hero talk and gift thing. I laugh, shaking my head. "Please, Batman, don't make me look like an imbecile. I don't have _powers _or any gift. I can't, first of all. And second, well, look at me!" I gesture to me body with one of my wrapped arms. "I'm sort of hospitalized for who knows how long. And I have no training. I'm not even good at dodgeball, for crying out loud! How can you expect me to kick butt when it's my butt that gets kicked?"

The grim line on Batman's face fades into a formation that is supposed to resemble a smile. "Then one of the best will train you until you are ready to go on missions."

I shake my head, again, disbelieving the words that Batman is saying, to me. "Yeah, because I can totally take down a four hundred pound monster-thing who is robbing a bank all by myself," I say sarcastically, rolling my dark blue eyes.

"You will have a team that will help you grow into the hero that I believe you can be," Batman persists. "It's a great team of six teenagers, so far, roughly your age, who are trained to do things that you will be able to do as well."

Why is he speaking to me as if I can fight close combat when I can't even land a punch at all? There is no way that one of the League members actually thinks that I have the potential to be something I'm not, or that I will grow into something I can never be.

I shake my head again, listening to the heart monitor beeping at us casually, and frown. "What could I possibly do to add an advantage with this team?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow as I stare at him. "More than likely I'll be the tag-along sister whom nobody wants."

"The Justice League was founded by seven members: Having seven young justice members won't hurt a thing," Batman responds, clearly amused that I am asking such questions.

I ponder the thought for a moment before considering the other options I have. If I join this team Batman's told me about, I can be stronger physically and emotionally. I can even meet friends! I can learn to control this odd power I have, even if I am sure that it doesn't exist.

But… If I do not join, I will go back to school, and people will be curious to know what happened to me. They will ask questions, and I will most likely be so emotionally unstable that I'll blow up again, literally.

Whatever. This has to be better than being at home, having mom tell me I'm pathetic and lousy and worthless. Now she won't know that I've gone, training to be something that neither of us thought I would become in a million years.

I smile slowly, still unsure with my decision. "Well, I suppose I could… do this. I mean, if I work hard enough…and if I put in enough effort..." I don't make eye contact with Batman, but I know he is pleased to hear my acceptance to whatever he is offering.

The Dark Knight stands up from his chair, towering over me, and the line on his face curves into a small smile. "Welcome to Young Justice," he said. Although his voice is deep, there is a sense of joy, I suppose, that is radiating from him. "Your official acknowledgement as a member of the team will be tomorrow. Until then, get some rest." He then turns his back and heads for the door.

"Wait! Batman, I have a question," I say, using my elbows to prop myself up. I ignore the pain that shoots up through my arms and continue on until I am fully upright. Batman stops and looks over his shoulder, and the smile on my face grows. "What about school and my mom? And…"

Batman turns fully to me. "This will be explained to you tomorrow morning. Until then, get some rest," he repeated, and with that he turns out the light, opens the door and leaves me to wonder about the impossible in the dark. When the door to my room clicks shut, I lie back down on my pillows, suddenly feeling exhausted from just sitting up.

"Maybe you're not that pathetic after all, Blair," I tell myself softly as I waited for sleep to overcome me with glee and satisfaction.

And I hold onto the words that Batman said as I slowly fell back asleep, hoping, praying, that the equal leader of the Justice League was correct. I may be special to some others, but… I'm still Blair Wainright, and I have no idea what kept me together as I spontaneously combusted. And how was this stupid gift supposed to help if it just burns me in return? And how was I supposed to control it anyways?

The thoughts run through my mind, circling around and around until, frustrated with all the questions without answers, I ring the nurse bell to tell her that my arms are gonna kill me and that I need a pain med. She willingly gives me one, surprised that I am able to sit up with the use of my own arms despite their being burned.

The nurse offers to change my bandages and to clean my arms to keep them from getting infected. I agree, cringing as I realize how bad the burns are. According to the nurse, when I was first brought in, the damage was so bad that they thought I would lose the feeling in both of my arms. _Clearly not_, I think as I watch her smear Neosporin on my arms. It took her about a few minutes to re-wrap the bandages and then leave, wishing me a good night.

As I lay in the bed, I count backwards from hundred to fifty four until a dreamless sleep overcomes me.

Something is prodding my lower left leg, repeatedly. I frown at the interruption of a dream. "Go 'way," I mumble, my words slurred from the peaceful sleep. The prodding continues.

"Blair, wake-up. It's time to go, now," orders a deep voice, a familiar one. My eyes flutter open to see Batman's tall, dark form standing by the edge my bed as he prodded my leg with one of his weapon-things.

"Five more minutes," I whimper, clamping my eyes shut as I roll over onto my side and slip my wrapped right arm under the pillow to keep my head level. "Please?"

"No. Get up." Batman's voice is so stern and almost scary that my eyes flash open and jump out of bed in reaction to it, flinging the sheets into the air in the process.

As I watch the last sheet land on the bed in a heap of a mess, I glance at Batman, who has narrowed his eyes at me while I struggle with the loose bandages. Is he regretting his decision to let me be part of this Young Justice? Or simply sizing me up to the others?

"You're lucky that I had the nurse release the IV from your arm," Batman says, his voice rough. I roll my eyes, wishing I could fold my arms over my chest. "Here, this is your back pack: It has a pair of clothes and a few of your personal belongings," Batman states as he bends down to pick up my school pack from the floor beside the bed. "Go change," he instructs as I walk around the bed to receive my backpack.

I stand in shock after I realized what his words imply. "You went into my house?" I ask him, disbelieving that he would actually do that. "Was my mom there? What did she say?" The questions shoot of my mouth like angry bullets before I realize that he wasn't the one who grabbed my belongings.

"It was your team members, Artemis and Megan: They were able to collect a few things for you," Batman answers me, his tone remaining surprisingly calm. I blink my eyes, remembering that I had a team that I can depend on, even if we've never met. My face flushes, embarrassment sinking in. "They also did not report of anybody else to be in the house at the time they were there."

"Oh... Okay, I'll have to thank them. To wherever we're going," I say, upset with myself for my reaction. I offer my arm so that Batman can slip the backpack strap onto my shoulder: I don't want to use my hands. He does so, carefully so as to not touch the gauze, and it strikes something in my heart. It's something that my dad had done when I broke my arm from jumping off my bed when I was younger.


	3. Let's Play Surprises

**Young Justice**

**A Red Passion**

**Chapter three: Let's Play Surprises**

Inside the bathroom, I drop my backpack onto the floor, glad that the straps missed my bandages. Excitement is bubbling inside me as I am somewhat able to open the pack to look upon its contents. I feel a smile spread over my face as I notice my purple tank top folded up on the top layer. Directly underneath lays my favorite pair of denim light blue jeans. I'll have to sincerely thank Artemis and Megan -their sense of fashion was personally amazing- whenever Batman chose for me to meet them- Hopefully soon. Honestly, I can't wait. The anticipation will be my demise sooner rather than later. Preferably later.

Instantly I pull the outfit from its carrier, intending for a good change and anticipating the difficulty of doing so. The change of clothes goes as fast as I can make it, ten minutes. It is painful enough to simply bend my wrists to put on my shirt, and buttoning my pants nearly brings tears into my eyes.

Ah hell. I'm crying.

Instantly, by habit, I begin to do my obnoxious donkey cough and desperately blink my eyes, refusing to use my bandaged arms to wipe the desperate tears away. I hate crying. It's a sign of weakness. My mother told me this after I bawled my eyes out when I realized that my gold fish died after two months of happy living. Those were the days that I learned about my tendency to cry.

I cough miserably, holding back the tears that wanted to stain my hopeful future. If anything, I won't let my new life see me like this, ever. And if I do … I shake the thought away, hoping that nothing will ever come of it.

After miserably brushing my teeth and washing my face and hair the best I can, I leave the bathroom, feeling as clean as I can get until I'm able to take a real shower elsewhere. Hospitals and bathrooms in the same sentence freak me out somehow, and I don't even know why.

Back inside my room, with my back pack settled on my shoulders and my hair hanging down, dripping water down my backside, I wait impatiently for Batman to finish his call with his hush-hush friends. I sigh dramatically, switching the weight from my right to left leg as I inspect the gauze on my arms for the fifteenth time.

By the time Batman's one sided conversation ends, I have already picked away at my gauze and the new scabs that are already in place by my elbow. The Dark Knight turns to me and crosses his arms over his chest.

I grin sheepishly in return.

He shakes his head, his masked eyes closed. I wonder what he is thinking for the briefest moment. I shift my weight again nervously. "Hey… Batman…" I whisper loudly, getting his attention. The man opens his eyes and nods his head once, curtly. Taking that as my cue, I continue, "Can you put my hair up for me, please? It's getting…annoying." I offer him a ponytail holder that I found wrapped around my hairbrush handle.

The response from the Dark Knight is a blank stare, as if he's seen a cow eating the grass in someone's front yard. I giggle at the thought. He does not shrug his shoulders, nor does he nod his head in agreement. Instead he simply takes the rubber band from my hold and walks around me.

I feel my drying hair being gathered into one hand while the other collects the few strays. I can tell by the way he handles my hair, silently, as he tries to put it on the top of my head that he has never done anything like this before.

"Uh… make sure pony tail has three loops around the band, so that way the hair won't fall out," I instruct, my voice wavering. "My hair is kind of thin… But there is just so much of it, which makes it seem like there is a lot. But top secretly, there really isn't," I babble. The movement of my hair as Batman put it into a pony tail is unstable and shaky. I feel for the pony tail and smile a bit.

Once Batman is finished with the task, I look into the mirror. The reflection gazes back at me with a small smile and wide, dark blue eyes that have the faint tint of red from crying. As I stare into the mirror, I know that I can't fix the finished product. Not only do I not want to, I can't. For all I know he is probably sensitive to having his work being demolished and rebuilt to be something better than it was before.

My hair is loose as it falls down over my shoulder. At the end of my hair is the rubber band, tied tightly around my hair to keep the ends together. I turn from the mirror and grin. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

The two of us leave the room swiftly, not bothering to argue with the nurses in the hallway that insist that I stay longer. They claim that my bandages need changing, even though I had them changed moments ago. Batman waves off the horde of nurses, claiming that I will be just fine. Although my skin is healing at a strangely fast pace, it is gross to watch the burnt skin fall off and be replaced by scabs created in the formation of new skin.

With Batman having his great respect for high authority, I find it surprising to see all the nurses go their separate ways. I suppose that it is the persona that Batman has -that stern look, the tension in his jaw when he speaks in phrases- that makes people listen to him. He does not say another word after the horde of nurses has left us alone.

We go to the front desk: Well, Batman goes. I follow, slightly confused. He asks the secretary for my papers and pays for my stay and my other expenses. I stand next to him, shocked. Why is he doing this? My mother, of all people, should be paying for my hospital trip. Not him.

"You have a beautiful daughter, Sir," says the secretary, her eyes darting back from between the two of us while she prints out the papers that Batman has requested. She smiles politely at me as she types some information into her computer.

I frown at her complement, not because she said I was beautiful, but at the genetics part. Clearly I cannot be related to Batman. I've seen my dad before, so there is no way that Batman can be my father. I am about to protest when Batman murmurs a quick, "Thank you" to the secretary. She smiles again, this time bigger and better, as if she's solved the world's greatest secret: Batman has an injured daughter in Rhode Island.

"What are you doing?" I look at him in alarm, my eyes wide. The secretary just chuckles as she slides the rest of the sign-out papers over to the Dark Knight. He quickly signs his initials, folds my pile of papers in half, thanks the secretary with a nod, and turns for the door. I follow him, my mouth hanging open, astonished.

How could he tell that secretary that I am his daughter? Why did he want my information? How did he get a hold of my birth certificate and my social security number? Why did he pay for my hospital bill? Why… Why is this happening?

Outside the hospital the sun is beating down on us, telling us that it's early morning. I keep up with Batman's fast pace in the middle of the parking lot. His black cape flows behind him gracefully under the sunlight, and I wince from the intensity, making sure I don't lose sight of him. He is walking so fast that he's practically running. I have to jog to keep up with him, my backpack slapping against my back in doing so. Ouch!

"You said you'd answer my questions," I remind him as we come up to… The Batmobile. I am walking in a dream. The car is long and sleek and black, of course. The posterior definitely gives off a 'built for speed' aura. It does not have wings in the back, like the news portrayal from when Batman left a crime scene he'd been investigating. As I gawk at it, Batman chuckles.

"Were you expecting a minivan?" he asks as he walks over to the driver's door, opens it, and gets in. I blush at the rhetorical question and, taking it as my cue to get in, slowly move to the passenger's seat.

Interior design for cars, particularly expensive cars, is very intriguing, especially when it involves bright blue lights that lights up the background for the radio buttons and the gauges on the dash. Somehow, while I shrug off my backpack and set it by my feet and lean into the leather seat, a sense of relaxation overwhelms me. Who would think of such a term from the inside the coolest car ever?

Batman starts up the engine and by magic the seat belt comes over and buckles itself. I tug at it, for curiosity reasons, and come to the conclusion that it must be magnetic. Most likely for safety possibilities so that the belt would never be unlatch during an accident.

_The engine is as silent as its driver_ I think to myself as we leave the hospital grounds and get on the highway that heads east, towards the coast. My brow furrows in confusion: Why so far out?

"Where are we going?" I ask, turning to Batman after staring out the window. He doesn't reply at first, just drives, and for a moment he reminds me of my own biological father.

He does not take his eyes off the road when he finally does respond. "To Mount Justice." His voice is clear. I've been to the mountain before with my cousins during spring break, when there was still some snow on the peak. That had caught my attention.

"Are we going hiking?" I ask, grinning.

Batman shakes his head. "No." The answer made it obvious that hiking was not the purpose of going to the mountain. My excitement began to bubble, and I conclude that I'd rather be excited than angry. I lean back into my seat and sigh. Why are we going there?

The League had used it before as headquarters years ago, but when some bad guy discovered its purpose, the Justice League set up camp at the Hall of Justice, which is much more public than the mountain itself.

We take a turn off the highway, the green sea-side mountain coming into view. Minutes later and I'm practically bouncing in my seat. I smile and plaster my face to the window as we come up to the entrance of the mountain. Green pine trees of all ages come into view and pass us swiftly as we drive down the paved road.

The turns are sharp as we climb the mountain, and I am surprised that Batman's' vehicle is not crying out for rest. Soon enough the dirt road has come to an end, and we're taking an off-road trip between trees and shrubs on a path that has hardly been used.

"I thought you said we weren't going hiking," I accuse, raising my eyebrow at him. I so badly want to cross my arms over my chest and argue, like I would do with Mom, but I hold still. Batman keeps driving and does not reply. We emerge from the forest and into a clearing, slowing down to a crawl and then a stop. I frown.

"We're here," he says. He takes the keys out of the ignition and gets out of the car in one smooth motion.

"Huh," I mumble, unbuckling my seatbelt. Looping the strap of my backpack onto my arm, I open the door with my elbow and exit the Batmobile. After shutting the door with my hip -because I decided to be lazy- I follow Batman to the center of the meadow.

Although the side of the mountain had a huge mountain wall, I find it unsurprising when a piece of grassy land begins to form into a ramp, heading downwards to expose metal surroundings. I look between Batman and the grassy ramp, my mouth hanging open again.

The Dark Knight heads towards the inside of the mountain, commanding without looking over his shoulder, "Come on, Blair," as though I were a small child staring at the world's largest Ferris wheel while my father is trying to get me to go home.

Come to think of it, that did happen. I close my gaping mouth and follow Batman solemnly. Suddenly a light blue laser envelopes Batman, and in a mechanic voice it states, "_Recognized, Batman, 02_." When I pass through the blue lasers, the voice monotones once more, "_Recognized, The Inferno, B08"._

**Dear Readers, I cannot wait until I introduce Roy! I'm vibrating with impatience! Ahh! Thank you for all those favorites and Story alerts and reviews! They make my day, truly. Happy Easter! The day our Lord Savior rose from the dead to prove to the world that even he can beat death! Ahh! It's so… amazing.**

**~ Serenity.  
>Also, everybody, say hello to my beta reader and close friend, TwilightWarrior88, she's awesome. :)<strong>


	4. A New Family

**Young Justice**

**A Red Passion**

**Chapter Four: A Whole New Meaning to Teammate.**

The two of us stride down the hall, going deeper into the cave inside the mountain. I have never been on the inside of it- My cousins and I had always tried to find the door, but we never could. I've always imagined it to be dark and mysterious as we walk down the corridors inside the center of the mountain, villain like and such, just like the person who had discovered this place.

Of course, I am completely wrong.

The cave is nothing like what I have expected it to be. Sure there are a few stalactites hanging from the ceiling here and there, and the walls that kept the cave from closing in on us are dark brown and dry, kind of crumbly to the touch. I squeal as I feel part of the wall fall to pieces in my gauzed hand. Quickly brushing the dirt onto my jeans, I continue to follow Batman down the corridor that was illuminated with bright blue florescent lights. I can't keep the look of awe off of my face. It is as though it is stuck here, permanently.

"This place is so sneaky," I squeak with excitement, staring at one of cameras, which follows my movements. I catch up to Batman, who seems as though he has lost all hope of my not being curious. This thought is not unfounded, considering how I am constantly touching the walls in search of any of those top-secret passageways that lead out to somewhere equally top-secret.

When we reach the end of the corridor a large room lays out in front of us. On the ceiling hangs a computerized dome-like structure that responds to Batman's voice. In contrast, a circular design on the floor indicates where the computer is able to reveal holographic images. Batman stays silent while I stare at the technology that I am not used to. I know that the government and military uses it, so why not superheroes? This thought had never taken place in my mind before. The monitor screen shows images and data charts, as well as percentages of increasing and decreasing statistics.

Once the Dark Knight has finished with his business, he taps his finger on another holographic screen as if he was pressing a button. With that, he makes a request. "All Young Justice Members report to the briefing room immediately." He lifts his finger from the light blue floating screen and nods his head towards me. I come closer to him so that I am standing next to him, facing the hall that sounds as if a stampede is coming through.

Sounds of crashing metal and excited, rushed voices come closer by the second. Hurried footsteps are soon followed by another and another. A sudden high pitch cheer of excitement comes quickly, and I can feel myself growing nervous from the noise.

These kids are loonies.

Despite my sudden emotions, I stand tall next to Batman as the small crowd begins to pour out from the east hall. I can feel myself grow more and more tense every moment. I'm like them at all. I don't lift weights, or run on the treadmill. I'm not acrobatic. I don't know martial arts. I don't belong here. This is a mistake, a big mistake and I can't fix it. It's already too late.

Six teens emerge from the hall, suddenly silent at the sight of Batman standing tall; while I stand beside him, panic in my eyes.

"Hey, we have a new partner!"

"Ahh, man, I thought we were gonna get a mission."

"A new partner!" another cheers.

Suddenly a whoosh of cold air whips by me, and a heavy arm drapes casually over my shoulder. His hand squeezes my shoulder, and his pink lips are on my ear. "Hey gorgeous. Welcome to the team." His voice is low, smooth. I duck out from under the arm and raise an eyebrow at the red head. I feel my face grow hot at the movement, and pray for Batman to say something that will get this kid off of me.

"Uhm, tha-thanks," I murmur, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear while wishing I had the power to go invisible instead of combusting or whatnot. I take in a deep breath and tense when Batman speaks. The six teens, diverse in every way, stand in front of us in a horizontal line, their expressions blank.

Batman levels his gaze at the team, which I was supposedly part of. Wait. Do I stand with them? Do I stay where I am, next to Batman? I look at the team, clothed their different outfits, seeming so completely casual. A Martian is standing with them. I'm just about to implode with nervousness.

"This is your new team member, Blair," Batman introduces me to the team. His voice is calm, professional. "She'll be staying here for the weekend to get used to the base." He lays his hand on my shoulder lightly, as if he wants me to say something.

I blink my eyes, not really registering the fact that the others are waiting for my response. "Oh, right, uh ... Hi." I wave a bandaged hand, hoping that I will be able to pull this off well. I add a quick smile for good measure.

The Martian is the first to relax from her stare and smiles back at me. "Hi, I'm M'gann M'orzz. I'm from Mars." She steps forward from the line of staring teens. "But here on Earth you can call me Megan." Another smile as she tilts her head, her red brown hair flowing with the movement.

Nodding my head I, too, introduce myself. I might as well be friendly. "Blair Wainwright. And you can call me Blair." I offer another ghost of a smile as I take in the other five members of the team.

"Artemis." The blond standing beside Megan speaks up. The corners of her mouth lift upwards into a crooked smile. "I picked out your clothes. Megan wanted you to run around in a skirt and boots." She shakes her head, but the tone in her voice is lightly teasing as she elbows her friend in the ribs. The team chuckles with one another in response as the Martian squeaks. Her green skin flushes in embarrassment, and I feel as though I can actually get to know these people to a small degree. I'm really not a people person.

A young man in a windbreaker jacket and baggy jeans steps forward, offers his webbed -fingered hand, and says, "I'm AquaLad. When we are off duty I go by Kaldur'ahm: However, my friends call me Kaldur." A gentle smile was given as well. "I am from Atlantis, a world below the surface." I can't keep my eyes off his brown web- fingered hand as it is still waiting for me to shake it. I respond timidly as my bandaged hand is enclosed by Kaldurs' own.

"I'm from Valley Falls," I respond, shyly wincing from Kaldur's grip. The town or village is small, very small, and compared to Happy Harbor, its neighboring, inward city, it looks like a speck on a map. I shift my weight onto the other leg nervously as I slip my hand out of Kaldur's. As I drop my bandaged arms by my side, I am introduced to the last three boys.

The redhead who spoke to me earlier pushes Kaldur out of the way, his arms spreading wide. "That's Robin, and that's Supey." He gestures to the remaining ebony-haired boys with a wide grin. "And I'm Wally, Kid Flash, and the Fastest Kid Alive." Once again Wally has rushed to my side and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his chest. "But you can call me anything you want."

My eyes widen, and I can feel my face flush again as I wriggle to get loose from Wally's grip. "How does 'Immature' sound to you?" I question him, once I am free. I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down with a raised eyebrow. For once in my life my height of five feet and seven inches proves to be somewhat useful.

"Huh. I like you already," Artemis claims, grinning, her hands on her hips. I watch Wally's freckled face turn red. Turning to Wally, Artemis staes, "It's a perfect name, for you. Don't you agree, Immature?" mocking the redhead with a sassy smirk.

Wally huffs dejectedly at his new-found nickname as the rest of us laugh together. The group has managed to gather from Batman's silent protectiveness that I have been neglected at some point in my past. Now, circled around me, are six kids who have me spinning in circles. They tell me fast paced jokes. They give me facts about crime fighting, their goals with their missions, who their mentors are. In all, they give me a warm welcome as I try my best to introduce myself to 'Supey' and Robin.

Robin is the protégée of Batman, as he claims proudly to me. His longer dark hair gives him a slightly childish appearance that's professional at the same time. At a single glance you can tell that Robin has grown up under Batman's leathery cape. However, as an adolescent, he's able to make the jokes necessary to carry on a conversation. Although his smile is genuine when he speaks or laughs, it seems as if it weren't because of his black sunglasses that hide his revealing eyes. Robins' glasses make him appear much darker then he truly is.

Lastly the biggest one, Superboy, has made it clear through his hand shake that he lives up to his name of 'Super'. After the fellow teen releases my bandaged hand, the sharp pain reminds me of my burns that I've tried so hard to ignore. If it's out of sight, it's out of mind. Unfortunately, that thought process does not apply to my arms, since they're limbs and kind of attached me. I sigh, letting my burnt, bandaged arms sag by my side.

With my arms being in such pain, I silently wish to shove them in ice and hope for the best.

The Martian lifts my arm in her green hands and frowns. "Are you in pain?" she asks quietly as she brushes her fingertips across the wrappings lightly. I want to so badly to say I'm not, and that the gauze is just a decoration. I shake my head instead.

"Not really. It's just numb," I lie, as I take my arm back from the green hands. I give Megan a reassuring smile to prove myself. But with the other five members and Batman looking at me, the smile is unstable, especially when another short burst of hot pain shoots through my fingertips up to my elbow. I clench my lowered hand in protest from the sting and resist the urge to hiss in pain. The smell of burning fabric soon fills the surrounding air.

I look over my shoulder to see Batman's dark figure walk towards us his, mouth forming into a grimace. The closer the Dark Knight approaches us, me specifically, the more I want to just crawl under a rock. I turn to face Batman reluctantly, the team members that had once surrounded me having dispersed.

"Your palms," Batman voices, his tone rough as if he was interrogating a villain. I duck my head as I show him the black soot on my palms. Batman grabs my right hand and begins to unravel the bandages from my skin. I wince once again, ducking my head, blonde hair concealing my face from the others.

_Whatever you do, Blair, do not cry. _I tell myself this with my eyes clamped shut as I feel the last layer of cloth being removed from my dry skin. Batman drops my hand and picks up the other, and once again he removes the burnt bandages. Behind me, I can hear the quiet whispers of the teens as the last of my bandaged arms reveals its skin.

His voice is deep, but that is the voice of Batman. "You can look up now, Blair," he says, and instantly I do so, blinking my eyes forcefully to keep the unwanted tears from spewing from my eyeballs. He silently nods his head to my arms. I bite my lip as I raise my newly nude arms and shake my fingers as if to wake them up from a sandy sleep.

The skin does not have the same smoothness as it did before, and it lacks hair as well. My fingers look the same as it did before this whole fiasco. But the thing that bothers me the most is the twitches before the pain sprouts from my fingertips and shoots up to my elbows.

"What's wrong with me?" I ask him, clenching my fists, and as if on cue the heat of the pain begins to form. "This isn't normal! I burst into flames, I'm hurting! I can't even… I don't understand!" And I can hear myself raise my voice in frustration, allowing everyone to listen to my anxiety attack. "And what's worse is that I don't belong here! I'm an…Anatomy nerd! I don't do this!" I cry out in anguish, spreading my arms out wide. With a heavy whoosh both my arms are ablaze in a hot red fire.

"She's on fire," Wally murmurs in awe, walking forward. "It's the Mystic Powers." He wiggles his fingers as if I was doing some sort of magic show. Artemis slaps his shoulder and sends him a muted glare.

I turn to him, bewildered. "Mystic Powers?" I question him, waving my blazing arms in the air. "This is hurting me!" The others watch my lunacy escalate, while I stand there and let the fire chow down on my flesh- just like last time.

In the corner of my eyes, I can see Batman take a step towards me and my twin flaming arms. "You have to release it," he instructs, as if he knows what I'm going through. Alright.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Right. Okay, sure. "Got any ideas?" I ask him. Sure, I am talking back to Batman like I do with my mom. Even though it seems as if he wants to help me stop turning into a bonfire, I can't help but snap back. It's a reflex.

"Calm down: The team will help you to release the energy," he urges, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over my head towards the team.

I just want to go home now.

**Hey guys! Thank you so much for waiting after, like, a month. XD. Maybe I'll be able to sit down and crank out some chapters this summer. So, you guys go some daddybats, flirty Wally, Sassy Artemis, and a little over the top freaked out Blair. Whew. How will they manage? Haha. Thank you for reading, you guys are awesome. And once again, beta cedit goes to Twilightwarrior88 for she is truly an amazing person.  
>_Serenity<strong>


	5. Team Building

**Young Justice**

**A Red Passion**

**Chapter 5: Team Building**

Batman has insisted that I release the fire that continues to gnaw on my arms like dual chew toys. This is something that I have to do, apparently, or I won't have any arms by the time the fire eventually dies out. But I know that won't happen. It has to be a growing pain of some sort. It only hurts when I think about it. When I leave those thoughts alone, the pain itself seems to fade away.

With my arms extended away from the rest of my body to prevent anything else from catching the rage, I turn to the team, hoping that they have some idea of with what to do- because I have nothing.

They debate with one another about how to help my situation. Sometimes an argument breaks out, but it's quickly resolved with Kaldurs' final say on that specific idea. At first Kaldur insists on drowning the fire, but after realizing that this wasn't the purpose of this obstacle, he grows silent and listens to the others bicker about how to solve my situation.

Artemis thinks that I have had contact with some sort of chemical and that I should just let it burn out. But by the look of things, this isn't the case. Robin has suggested on having Wally race around me in a tight circle to suffocate the fire. After realizing that this would end badly for me, the idea is dismissed.

"Clearly, it's an emotional and mental thing that's going on," Wally states, crossing his arms over his chest gallantly, like he already knows the answers to my dilemma. He waves one hand up and down my body, as if to show the team that no matter what, it will have to be me who releases the fire. "If we can find the trigger, Blair can then obviously turn her fire control on and off, and release it whenever she wants." With a smirk, Wally re-crosses his arms over chest as he raises his eyebrows, impressed with himself.

Megan taps a finger on her chin in thought. "I don't know, Wally. Blair is showing a lot of signs of energy that is being built up. But, yes, we need to find a trigger, or something, soon."

"I think we should have Megan use her telekinesis to pull the fire out," Superboy offers, looking at the Martian with a small smile. Her green skin flushes at the recommendation. After the suggestion, Wally and Artemis's argument about how my so-called powers are or aren't related to my mental commands stops short when Kaldur agrees with Superboys' idea.

"Hello Megan! Of course that would work," Megan chirps, practically slapping herself in the forehead in realization.

Kaldur steps forward. "Blair, would you mind if M'gann pulled the fire from your arms, to help you better understand your powers?" He asks for my approval, an action that frankly shocks me. I've been expecting them to jump right in and get things started and finished. I meekly nod my head, agreeing with Superboys' idea. I am too scared to voice my assent in case my voice squeaks. Besides, I can barely manage the tears that leaks out of my eyes as the fire begins to crawl up my arms like vines. I can feel the sweat begin to build up on my forehead as the heat increases dramatically in only a few seconds.

Note to self- Must mange powers before I explode.

Miss Martian walks over to me, staying a few feet in front of me to allow enough room for the releasing of this fire that is eating me alive. She gives a small smile and nods her head before she holds out her arms horizontally. Her brow creases as she focuses on doing something that might help 'release' the fire- Telekinesis.

To put it mildly, it doesn't work.

The Martian uses her telekinesis to awkwardly 'pull' the fire from me. At first the flames begin to migrate away from my skin as though they are attracted to Megan. The fire crawls down past my elbows like a long glove, the flames extending past my fingertips and dancing wildly out of control. A flame thrower flickers between me and the Green Martian as it's pulled away from the palms of my hands. The red orange blaze fills the space, warping into a ball of an inferno.

For the first time in a long time, I hear myself laugh with relief.

But that moment is sure to end as the Martian begins to lessen her telekinesis around the fire and closes my hand into a fist as I try to control the massive blaze. Seconds later a minor explosion erupts that sends both of us flying in opposite directions.

Clearly none of us were expecting this, and Wally and Robin both cheer in amusement as blue and orange sparks rain down. Batman reaches for his cell phone and mutters into the device. The other teammates stare at me in shock as I sit up on the linoleum floor, rubbing the back of my head, my hands no longer aflame. Superboy seems to show the most negative emotion towards the event. He balls up his fists and clenches his jaw as he glares at me through the smoke that begins to clear. Eventually he calms down, Kaldur putting his hand on Supey's shoulder when Megan begins to stir from across the room.

I stand up slowly, rubbing my dry arms nervously: This day is going to be a disaster if things aren't going to get better. I don't want to make enemies out of my team members. It is bad enough that I've already embarrassed myself horribly. Crawling out of my self pity, I walk over to Megan's form as she too struggles to stand up.

Once I reach her, I offer a hand to help her up. "I'm sorry," I say, trying to be nice. I'm really not a people person, but if I am going to be on a team my introvert self is going to have to learn how to grow up fast. Megan takes my hand, smiling, and I help her to her feet.

"It's okay. The buildup of energy had to be released one way or another," Megan explains, her cheerful persona practically blowing me away. "Besides, you're way new to this, having powers and all," she adds with another flash of a smile.

"Yeah, I guess you could say I never expected any of this to happen," I admit sheepishly, gathering my hair that had fallen out of Batman's fail of a ponytail. I clench my hand, relieved that I don't' have to cringe in pain from the fire. I don't feel any short bursts of pain like last time. There are no heat flashes when I make a fist. I don't sense the sparks of a new flame. Instead, for the first time this week, without the bandages or becoming a human blaze for any extended amount of time, I feel like a normal person.

Or as normal as it's gonna get from here on out.

From the side Batman murmurs rapidly into his cell, speaking low enough for neither one of us to overhear his speedy conversation. He clicks his phone shut, his famous grim expression taking over his face.

"Try again," he orders, crossing his arms over his chest. I swallow the ball of cotton in my throat in response.

Megan and I walk back to where we started in the cave. She flashes light smiles as we talk about what we can do better this time. I simply mumble my responses, keeping my eyes on the ground. We debate the possibilities of the combinations we can try. Actually, she does most of the talking: I just agree. She wants me to control my own fire more while she uses less of her telekinesis to trap the unruly flames. A second option was for me to simply do my thing with the fire as Megan, Megan on standby in case I needed backup.

As Megan and I take our positions across from one another, Batman clears his throat and gains our attention. "This time, Blair, do it yourself," Batman commands, raising his chin and narrowing his eyes in my direction. Megan gives me thumbs up before leaving the center of the cave and heading towards the team, who remain silent.

How awkward.

I look towards Batman, hoping he'll change his mind, but he only narrows his eyes further in response. Mumbling under my breath, I hold my hands out awkwardly in front of me. Wiggling my fingers and clenching my hands, I wait for something to happen. Of course nothing does.

Off to the side I hear Wally exaggerate a loud yawn. I turn my head to glare at him, just in time to see Artemis elbow him harshly in the ribs. She also grabs his ear and mumbles something into it. His green eyes narrow as he pulls away from her grasp. I feel my face turn red as I bring my arms closer to my body.

I turn back to Batman with a sigh. "This isn't working." As if to prove my point, I wiggle my fingers to show that I'm not exaggerating.

His eyes narrow further until he's almost squinting. I just about have a code brown. "Try harder," he growls.

Yeah, okay. With a reluctant nod of my head I return to my previous position. Hands up in front of my chest, elbows bent, and fingers outspread… I take in a deep breath and search for this trigger.

I'm hoping for a mental trigger, so I quickly think of a light switch: On and off. I narrow my eyes and think _on. _I watch my hands for any changes. Nothing happens. I frown in disappointment.

If I'm looking for something physical, like Spiderman when he snaps his wrist, won't something like snapping my fingers or wiggling them do something to light the fire? I try both actions, and nothing happens with either.

Frustrated, I ball my hands into fists and pull them down by my side. I didn't want any of this to happen. How did I fit this equation they want me to factor in? I didn't have powers before Wednesday. And now, all of a sudden, I do? Am I broken? How am I supposed to help people if all I do is hurt others and myself?

And then, I feel the spark.  
>It is a small spark, but it cracks against my skin like lightening in a stormy sky. I deepen the tightness of my fist, my fingernails digging into my palms. Moments later I can feel the lightening spark again, sizzling as it morphs itself into a small flame.<p>

I lift my flaming fist and open it, nearly shocked that the sting of the fire doesn't singe my hand like it did before. Now the orange flames simply dance on my palm as it tries to migrate up past my wrist, growing in size while doing so. I soon realize that if I keep my fingers directly aligned with my arm, the fire simply winds itself around my hand, fitting it like a fiery glove.

"Okay, now that I have a fire, what's next?" I ask, taking in a slow, steady breath. I can do this. I can stay like this just enough in order to go on to the next step. It's almost like studying.

Batman does not hear me, nor does he move from his stance: Narrowed eyes, straight back, with his arms crossed over his chest. I can nearly swear that he's my father under the mask, but I know better. "Figure it out amongst your team mates," he suggests shortly. I nod my head once in response.

I bite my lip as I make my way towards the team. To be honest, I wouldn't be bothered if they took an extra step back for caution. But when they don't take the option to move away, I find myself sighing with relief.

Robin speaks first, enthusiasm racing from his mouth. "Maybe if we set up some targets, like what Artemis does, we can have her shoot them down," he suggests as he pulls up a holographic image on his watch. Robin then begins to type vigorously, forming a plan on the light blue screen. "It could be similar to a gun, almost. But instead of using bullets, it will be a more like blasts of fire, somehow." The boy looks up from his blue screen and smiles. "What do you guys think?"

Kaldur folds his arms across his chest, a thoughtful frown splaying across his face. "It just might be possible," he murmurs, making eye contact with the other team members who either nod their in agreement or speak a simple "yeah" or "sure".

The team turns to me, waiting for my opinion again. A smile stretches across face as I agree with Robin's plan, "Sounds like… fun."

The past minutes blow by as the team creates the holographic archery targets that Artemis typically uses. Megan and Artemis talk to me easily as they give me pointers for hitting the targets.

"Keep your back straight, shoulders back, chin up," Artemis instructs as she demonstrates alongside me. She lifts her arms up as if she is holding her bow and arrow. "I would use my other arm to pull back the string of my bow along with the arrow. But you only need one hand to release your own arrow." She then tosses her long hair over her shoulder as she concentrates on taking out her target out with her pretend arrow.

After she completes her task, Artemis turns to me. "Now it's your turn." With a nod of my head, I position myself the way my new… Friend… has shown me.

"Oh, and make sure to breathe," informs Megan. "It's important."

With the nod of me head I shift my feet so they are aligned with my squared shoulders. It almost feels like I'm back in yoga, getting ready to do some weird pose. With my arm raised to shoulder level, I find it be almost easy to relight the flames that come from my hand.

"Good Job, Blair!" Megan cheers as she eyeballs the flame that swirls around my hand as I let it grow. "Now all you have to do now is aim it at all the targets that Robin has set up for you, and you're good to go. And then we can finally show you the rest of the cave and find you a room to stay in for this weekend."

I nod my head in response, trying not to get nervous. Besides, it will be like one huge sleepover.

Moments later, from the other side of the cave, Aqualad gives us the thumbs up as the holographic targets come into view. The targets are circular and float in mid-air, preparing to be shot down just the way they were programmed to.

The flames continue to dance on the skin of my hand as I narrow my eyes, focusing on a single target. Taking in a deep breath, I find myself letting the fire go. Like a bird trapped in a cage, the fire shoots from my hand in a fiery haste… only to fizzle out half way to the intended target.

"Really?" I mumble, dropping my empty hand by my side, feeling strangely frustrated with myself. I never get mad at me. At other people, yes, but to have those emotions directed towards myself? Hardly ever.

Megan places her hand on my shoulder lightly, attempting the art of comfort. "It was good try, at least." I don't respond to Megan as she tries to explain how my actions were only a 'beginner's mistake' and how 'practice makes perfect'. I got those lectures years ago from my mother, when she really was one.

The guys approach us, discussing theories as to how I received my so-called "powers". Wally has convinced himself that I had encountered some dangerous chemical explosion that the skin on my hands and arms has absorbed, thus giving me the "ability to manipulate fire" or in other words, pyrokinesis.

Batman follows the group silently as Robin interrupts Wally, claiming that his idea was illogical and could never happen.

"For your information, _Boy Wonder_, it can happen! This goes back to how Kid Flash came into existence," Wally explains loudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Beside me, Megan, giggles quietly at the argument between Wally and Robin, covering her mouth with her green hand. It is going to take a while to getting used to seeing somebody who comes from Mars. Not only that, but the idea of being around a group of people that will eventually call me a 'friend' will be something that I will also have to get used to as well.

Suddenly a holographic image of a woman with flowing black hair and a stern expression on her pale face divides the group in two. Half of us are separated from the other half as she begins to speak. "Wonder Woman to the Cave, requesting League members to follow up on the mandatory meeting regarding the code of conduct 67." Her tone is very serious. On the other side of the image, the group of boys part the way for Batman to step forward as he receives the message from his comrade.

"Confirmed. I'll be there shortly," Batman responds, with a quick nod of his head.

"Also, Green Arrow and Black Canary are on their way," Wonder Woman informs him, her red lips taking the shape of a smile. "Batman, please also inform the rookie that the League gives her a warm welcome in entering Young Justice." Another smile, a nod of her head, and the screen collapses into the air, leaving us all stunned.

**Hey Guys!  
>This is chapter five. And I had a very hard time writing this. Because of transitions for different events that take place in the chapter as well as the classic WB. But there is no excuse for writing!<br>Anyways, introducing a lot of people in the next chapter! I'm so excited. :D Anyways, please leave a review! And tell me how your summer went/ is going. Mine is almost over. D: it's quite devastating. But Alas, I get to see my friends soon, so, it's okay. :) Also, what do you guys think of Edna Mode? As well, a heartfelt thank you goes towards my Beta reader, who's super awesome.  
>Serenity.<strong>


	6. A Mentor Comes With the Package

**Young Justice**

**Red Passion**

**Chapter Six: A Mentor Comes With the Package**

After Wonder Woman's surprising informational appearance, I vaguely remember Batman and the Team telling me that I will receive a mentor- Someone who will show me the ropes in crime fighting and instruct me in the ethics of the life of a super hero: The adult who will go on patrol with me, to make sure that my life is still intact by the end of the night: That one person, who's oftentimes more like a boss than a teacher, who'll give me that hard glare so I'll know I did something wrong in the field. And sometimes, they will act more like a parent than just a teacher as well, because in the beginning all my free time will be spent with them as I train.

Robin then proceeds to push Wally out of the way, as he's in my face once again. "Oh, and your mentor will most likely take you out on patrol- Every. Night," he says, with a smirk crawling up on his freckled face. I don't know whether to be disgusted at the phrase 'every night,' or to be terrified that the day will not contain enough hours for me to get everything accomplished that I will like to do.

"Don't listen to him- Patrol usually ends when your mentor gives the okay," Robin says, elbowing his friend in the back.

"Uh, ow," Wally grunts, glaring harshly in return. "I'm just saying that my Uncle made sure that everything was dandy in the city by the time I had to get home."

Before Robin can react to Wally's comment, the Zeta Beam (Aqualad had told me about its purpose of transporting the hero's from one place to the Cave as well as the given name for it), gives off a bright golden light that is hard to stare directly into. A few seconds later the forms of two League heroes are revealed by the computer's feminine monotone voice. "Recognized, Green Arrow, zero-eight. Black Canary, on- three."

It takes me about a minute after the golden light fades and the heroes begin to walk towards the center of the monitor room where we stand for me to realize that I have seen them on the news fighting together: Anything from stopping a bank robbery or protecting a city from a crazed mafia businessmen trying to traffic illegal weapons… or something. Being able to recognize this celebrity couple just about gave me another heart attack.

This cannot be healthy.

Batman turns his head, greeting his fellow co-workers with the nod. "Blair, this is Green Arrow and Black Canary," he says, formally introducing me to the two known heroes by society in the States.

Black Canary reaches out her hand to shake my own. "It's an honor to meet you and to be able to have you as a protégé- That in itself is a true blessing." She gives a toothy smile as she drops my hand. "However, my duties as the team's trainer will still remain."

Around me, I can feel the surprise in the team as silence begins to sink into my ears. No one speaks as they digest the information, especially me. Like how I have a mentor (who somehow thinks I'm a blessing) who will most likely have me work until my muscles turn into jelly on a daily basis, and patrol during the night in cities that I am not accustomed to. At first, the information that my newfound mentor shared with us nearly sends me running with my tail between my legs. However, as I let the information settle within my mind, excitement begins to grow like a weed on _Miracle Grow_.

Robin steps forward, confused, "Wait you'll be her mentor and our trainer… at the same time?" he queries, extending one of his arms to show our teacher and my mentor the confused looks on all of our faces.

The blonde woman in front of us nods her head, placing her hands on her hips. "Of course. It'll keep all of us busy. Somebody will always be training, whether it is in the weight room, sparring with a partner or learning new maneuvers for battle."

Finally, Green Arrow steps forward, "Artemis, how is your mom doing?" As the Emerald Archer speaks, his blonde combo of a mustache and beard react to the movement of his mouth as he offers the girl a kind smile.

My new friend shrugs her shoulders casually as she replies in a flat tone, "She's alright. She's trying to find a job in the city." For a moment she pauses, and then she too smiles. "You know how the economy is these days. Especially when she's…" Then Artemis drops the subject, and crosses her arms over her chest, sending a glare to the bearded man.

Green Arrow respectfully nods his head as he offers Artemis a seemingly apologetic smile: However, his offer is untouched as Artemis continues with her poisonous, defiant stare. Robin, who's managed to stay by my side, covers his mouth with his hand and whispers to me that Artemis is the archer's niece, and that both live in Star City. After a moment it is clear why the two stay silent as they glare at one another childishly: Family relations.

Batman swiftly intervenes before the silent conversation escalates to anything drastic.

"Enough." The single word freezes the uncle and niece to a neutral level, bringing the tension to an ease. The Bat turns to his partner. "Patrol will begin at the usual time." With a lack of words necessary to carry a full conversation, Gotham's Knight is capable of giving directions to the archers and his partner.

Silence fills the room as the Batman takes his leave through the zeta beam to the Watchtower.  
>I wonder if he's forgotten that his vehicle is at the entrance of the cave.<br>Probably not- He is Batman, after all.

With the leave of the Justice League's leader and an eerie silence filling the air, Canary steps forward with her hands placed on her hips as a dark smile takes over her face. "Let's get started."

Canary somehow activates the computer to life, starting the arena. Green Arrow takes his place behind us, the team, as our teacher begins the lesson of balance.

"Balance. There are two types: The balance of separating the life of a civilian and a hero and balance on the battle field. Today we will be focusing on balance on the battlefield. Whether you are taking out criminal goons or sizing yourself up to the boss of the crime, your balance will determine how long you will stay on your feet during a battle." Canary pauses for a moment, takes off her jacket, and starts back up again. "I'm going to need a sparring partner."

My mentor's steely blue eyes lock on mine and I can feel my sanity slowly slip away.  
>Are the walls of the cave closing in? Is the ceiling falling down? Is the air getting thin? My breathing begins to escalate as I realize that she wants me to be in the center again-To be the center of attention.<p>

Great.

Mustering up my courage and gathering any strength I have left, I slowly raise my hand… Only to be cut off by Wally as he begins to boast.

"To always have an open mind and stay light on your feet, yet be able to have a firm hold on the ground," Wally says with the roll of his eyes, either bored with the concept or just annoyed. Beside him, Artemis elbows him in the side, her almond eyes narrowing threatening. Wally sighs, changes his tone, and speaks again. "Yeah, we've heard it before: It's important, but how does it relate to close combat?"

Black Canary raises an eyebrow. "I'll show you," she says, as she steps back and allows enough space between her and the redheaded student.

Wally steps forward, smugly looking over his shoulder at Artemis with a wink. "I've got this," he gloats.

In return the girl only rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. She turns to me, a hand over her mouth to cover the smile that seems to grow on her face. "He does this for attention," she explains to me in a low voice. However, by her tone, and the fact that she was smiling under her hand, this has to be more than a façade of annoyance.

Canary brings up a blue holographic keyboard and begins typing in commands that create a holographic simulation to test the balance of her continually boasting sparring partner.

"It's not like balance is very difficult. It's like riding a bike. Once you have a momentum, your balance just falls into place. C'mon Canary, can you at least give me a challenge?"

Our trainer smirks as she opens her mouth to speak. "Wally is going to demonstrate balance by the use of a bosu." As she mentions the object, its holographic image is formed. "You are not allowed to leave the bosu until you are either unbalanced by my attacks and are forced to or I say you may."

Canary makes a sweeping gesture with her arm, silently commanding Wally to take a stance on the round base tool. He does so, a light smirk twisting his lips upwards even as he wobbles slightly, still gathering his bearings on the object. Canary allows the fellow teen a few moments to keep himself balanced before she got on her own bosu, somehow without teetering even an inch.

Observing- I can do that. It's like doing a lab in a biology class. That's what the rest of us had to do was observe. It goes back and forth between Wally's forceful punches that make his footing wobble and that do not land on his target, and Black Canary's smooth roundhouse kicks that keep her in a cycle of being in attack mode.

But just as fast as it started, the sparring match ends with Wally trying to dodge our trainer's gloved fist that lands in the middle of his shoulder, throwing the red headed teen off balance and sending him stumbling backwards and onto the hard ground.

Canary steps off her own bosu, and helps Wally up by first complimenting him. "I like your style of punching- You have a good arm, but can anybody tell me what Wally did wrong?"

With Robin covering a laugh and the others silently pondering on the speedsters mistakes I take my chance to answer the question, "Well, while Wally's balance showed to be at a satisfactory level in general, when he is stood on the bosu his balance was then thrown off because of the unstable ground," I begin, my voice shaking after every other word as my peers stare at me, curious about what I have to say. "When one is fighting, their body is searching for a base of support, so when Wally was constantly moving his body, he was searching for that support. But because of kinesthetic energy, the sense that detects bodily position, weight, or movement, he just couldn't do it. To top that off, Wally was also punching, which threw his balance off." I take in a deep breath, trying to ignore the shocked stares. "Uhm... basically, he was not capable of coordinating his balance and fighting skills at the same time," I mumble, looking at the ground, my face heating up in embarrassment.

"Very good, Blair," Canary says, her voice calm and almost shocked by my response. "Who would like to go next?" she asks, changing the subject when Wally comes back to stand beside Artemis, crossing his arms and grumbling the whole way.

The rest of us take our turn with the balance training on the bosu. The original members like Robin and Aqualad excelled, while I and Supey kept falling. We got up and tried again, all of us.

Shortly after we finish demonstrating our own level of balance a few times, Canary dismisses the team by saying that we all did exceptionally well. A ten minute recesses and we'll resume the lesson.

Being herself, a smiling Megan takes hold of my bicep and explains to me that a tour is a necessity as a new member of the team. "Because the cave is like big home to all of us, and since you are part of the team, it's your home too."

I quietly watch as the team nods their heads in agreement to Megan's claim. Clearly they've known one another for a long time, and with me being inserted to this team, will that be an asset to their friendship, or a liability that they will have to deal with?

I respond to Megan with a genuine smile of my own. "A home… sounds nice."  
>My home isn't even a home anymore since Dad died, and since I have this opportunity to have a home with my new family, it would be foolish for me to turn down the offer.<p>

Before we are able to walk away, Canary calls out my Martian friends' name. "Megan, Blair's tour will have to be placed on a hold for a moment," she says, her voice calm as we pause in mid step. "Blair will have to stay behind for a moment to discuss an important topic."

Megan turns to me her green face holding a genuine smile as she speaks. "We'll wait in the kitchen for you, then."

Canary walks towards me as the rest of the team departs to the inner exit of the cavern. "In the next hour, I'll set up an appointment for you to get measured for your costume tomorrow." The feeling of being electrocuted runs through my veins at the blunt information that has been handed to me. Everything is happening so fast, it doesn't seem real anymore.

My mentor continues giving information. "She is a known friend of the league's, as she is the one who creates and fixes damaged costumes. You may know her as Edna Mode. After you receive the final version of your costume, you will take part in patrol with me and go on missions with the team. Until then, you will remain within the cave to train."

I feel myself nod my head in understanding during the infomercial. Taking in a deep breath, I smile. "I can't wait, to get started," I say, my voice steady and certain. This is what I want. I want to deck myself out in a costume, with a mask covering half of my face to conceal my identity. I want… I want to be able to stop a crime, to save lives. I want to be strong, for myself. And I want to be able to show people that I could-can- be just as good as they are when I've worked to the max, and then beyond that.

I leave the presence of my mentor and Green Arrow to meet up with my team.

I discover the team, the one that I am part of, is sitting around in a kitchen/ living room combo. There is no room left in my mind to be surprised as I walk into the room.

Megan floats over to where I stand, taking in the interior design of the room: Green sofa chairs, marble counter-tops, an island in the center, rocky walls, and a stove that has its own venting system.

The only thing that runs in my mind is a simple, _Whoa_.

"Are you ready for the grand tour, Blair?" Megan asks, clasping her hands together. I nod my head to keep myself from speaking.

Aqualad makes his way towards us. "I am sorry, but we will not be able to accompany you during your tour," our leader says as he waves his tattooed arm to point out the guys of the team. "It is part of our training to spar with one another at this time. Please, forgive us."

I nod my head once more, trying to find my voice. "It's fine, don't worry about it," I say, feeling a bit relieved; the fewer people who will keep me in their center of attention, the better.

The guys leave the room and go back to the central part of the cave, the place where we were at before. Megan then begins the tour by explaining that the kitchen/living room combo is the part of the cave where the team hangs out a lot, mostly because the kitchen has the food and the giant TV.

The Martian loops her arm with mine, presumably to keep me from wandering off in the wrong direction. "Down this hall is where the bedrooms are located," Megan announces, taking Artemis and I down the northern hallway. Once we've reached our destination, Megan opens up a heavy metal door. "This will be your room, Blair."

I stick my head into the room, and in a quick glance I catch sigh of a single bed on one side of the room, with a desk and a dresser. I am defiantly going to bring stuff from home to decorate it.

"My room is next to yours, so if you need anything, I'm right here," Artemis says, using her hand to show where her own door is at. "And over there is Megan's, and down that way are the guy's rooms." We go back down the hall from where we came from, passing through the kitchen and going down another hallway to where Artemis stops in front of a doorway. "This is the weight room; beyond this are the lockers and the showers."

The two girls lead me around, from the bay area to the library and everything in between. As the tour comes to a full circle, we meet up with the rest of the team as they continue to train, with Green Arrow instructing the boys on a new maneuver, which he calls "The Evasion".

Before any of us girls can say a word about the instruction of the maneuver, the Zeta beam begins to hum into action once more. "Recognized. B06, Red Arrow." The golden light of the machine reveals a red archer as he enters the cave.

I take in the view of the tall red head. One would have to be an idiot not to notice his ripped arms. Those biceps. I quickly catch myself biting my lower lip in mid-swoon, although that doesn't matter anyways.

Red Arrow quickly recognizes my presence just as fast as I notice him, but instead of drooling like a fool, he shoots a condescending glare at me. "So, who's your uncle?" he asks, his voice full of ferocity, walking towards the group of heroes… and me.

I quickly respond with a flat voice, masking my sudden annoyance. "I don't have any extended relatives." I watch the red archer frown, clearly agitated with my answer.

Canary steps forward and wraps her arm around my shoulders in a calm voice, "I agreed to be her mentor, Roy."

The young man that stands in front of us grows stiff as he digests the words that Black Canary had said and then responds by nodding his head. "Didn't think you would take that kind of job."

From behind us, Kaldur walks toward the third Archer, "My friend, you didn't come here for a social gathering. What news do you bring us?"

In response, Roy activates the holographic images to show screens of information. "I've been tracking the Shadows for some time, getting Intel on their missions." The screens show different images of the League of Shadows during their operatives. "I caught wind of one of their missions that will be coming up in a few days, or earlier." The screen then shows an ancient artifact that appears to be a golden ring. "This is the Artifact of Doom; it is capable of manipulating the user to act for its evil purposes. It is said to bring destruction to those the user hates, or consume those who dare use it from within with dark whispers of power, which would leave the user in a state of insanity." The team is silent as they process the given information. "The goal would to be able to keep the ring from being stolen and to destroy it afterwards, if it can be destroyed," he adds, with his arms crossed over his chest. "You guys up for a field trip?" he asks, looking around the room at the anxious faces that are among us.

Mine is not one of them.

Green Arrow steps in, his face showing disappointment. "Canary and I… we don't have the authority to send the whole team on for the mission."

Canary swiftly adds, "Because Blair is my protégé, she may go after her costume comes in." Red Arrow looks at me, and sighs.

"It's better than nothing. I'll contact you after I get more details about the mission." He jerks his chin in a nod, the most of a good-bye that he seems to want to give, and then turns on his heel and marches away. In a moment, the Zeta beam has whisked him away again, back into the outside world.

Conner snorts and crosses his arms across his thickly muscled chest, and I can almost see the snide doubt bubble up from somewhere within him. "Is that _all _fancy pants does? Go on hero assignments, I mean?" He sounds petulantly disgruntled, and though normally I might agree with him- The archer is allowed the privilege of fighting crime any time he so chooses, while this team seems as though it's only permitted out when the adults allow it- but at the moment I can't think straight. My head is slightly swimmy, as though I've smacked it on a pole or something, and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep myself from passing out entirely. Swooning over a guy who might just hate me before he even knows me: How pathetic.

* * *

><p><strong>Guys. This is an update. The best update ever. :D The longest most accomplished update ever! Even if it took five months to finally post it. I swear I haven't died, school and procrastination just gets in the way. X.x Next week is finals and then Christmas break. So I might find time after finals to write. :{D. Mucho credit goes towards my totally amazing beta reader, Twlightwarrior88 who wrote the last paragraph that you read as well as helping me with my tenses and everything else that needed tweaking.<br>Oh. I just wanted to let you guys know that Blair is now a Senior in high school, just so that she is able to be closer to be his age even though he's 'an adult'. Psssh. Beeflecake.  
>I almost forgot! 30 reviews for five chapters. 3,578 hits. My story is in one community. 36 Favorite's. And lastly 38 alerts.<br>You guys are so... TREMENDOUS. I love you all. Virtual cookies for all!  
>Love, Serenity. <strong>


	7. Uniform Does Not Mean 'Unitard'

**Young Justice**

**Chapter 7**

**Uniform does not mean 'Unitard'**

_Fire and smoke filled the room like a heavy blanket, angry flames destroying the place that I called home, and I was caught in the middle of it. My face lying on the floor and my body in the fetal position; I think I screamed during the expansion of time, while the walls surrounding me began to crumble from being devoured by fire. My voice started another scream as a part of the ceiling crashed to the floor. Dust flew into the air around the destruction site, sparks burst in the thick air to create daughter flames, enlarging themselves as they continued to engulf everything in its path. Tears streamed from my eyes from fright. Smoke filled my lungs as I tried to breathe in air. I coughed repeatedly, attempting to take in fresh air. The cycle never ended._

_But when the door to my bedroom burst open to reveal my father in his firefighter uniform, I could feel relief flood through me. Dad called my name, his voice loud, filled with anxiety and worry. I sat up, still coughing as I called out to him. I think he saw me, between the roar of the fire and my coughing; I managed to crawl out from my hiding place to try to reach my hero. Dad picked me up into his arms, protecting me from the monster that I had created. We left the room fast. My dad didn't stop running, his long legs carrying us faster from the disaster._

_We were so close to the exit, away from the fire and to the safety of my mother's embrace. A supporting beam fell from above, knocking into my dad somewhere vital: We both fell, for what seemed like eternity. We were both suspended in the air, and we both crashed down. Hard. With a dull thud my body hit the ground like a rag doll. Winded, I turned my head to see my father, collapsed on the floor, trapped underneath the burning beam._

"Dad!" The informal name escapes my lips as I shoot upright in a cold sweat, eyes wide in terror. My heart races inside my chest and my head is pounding from the nightmare. Nightmare. It was only a nightmare. I repeat the phrase in my mind to help soothe my senses. After a few moments of steady breathing, I am able to calm myself from the flashback: Memories as such should be forgotten by being buried.

Running my fingers through my knotted hair, I pull myself out of my bed. Well, there's nothing like starting your day with a heart attack.

In my room I search for the light switch, because, being underground, it is impossible to find natural light. After a few minutes of blindly stumbling around with my arms and hands outstretched in front of me, I finally make the decision to use my gifted powers of destruction to light my way.

It takes a good few minutes for me to release my power slowly and safely. With a small organic light on my hand, I am able to determine where and how far away I stand from the light switch. Realizing that I'm standing beside my full length wardrobe, across the room from the light switch, I mentally slap myself in the head as I walk to my destination.

With the new bright light I snuff out my flame and hunt for my backpack that contains my meager amount of belongings. Dressed in faded blue jeans and an ironically deep red t-shirt, soon after, I run my brush through my tangled hair, humming to an old song as I put my insane hair into a floppy bun at the back of my head.

I open my assigned bedroom door and the smell of bacon cooking greets me in a wave of deliciousness that makes my mouth water. Instantly, I recognize that Megan is cooking, because who else is left in the cave that would?

Revealed to be in the kitchen are Connor and Megan, both talking about their homework enthusiastically. Connor is standing at the island, writing in his spiral notebook while the text book lays open on the counter.

"And, it's like I said before Connor, I really love being in my Advanced Biology class. I'm learning so much about this planet. Much more than through the TV on Mars," Megan says as she floats around the kitchen, bringing dry ingredients into a large bowl.

Somehow knowing that I'm standing in the door way awkwardly, Connor lifts his head from his work and shares an unsure grin. "Mornin', Blair," he says.

Megan turns from her work and smiles cheerfully instantly, welcoming my presence. "Blair! Good morning! Did you sleep well? Was your bed soft or too soft?" Our friendly sleep-over ended with both of us in our own rooms, loosely based on how Red Tornado told us to go to our rooms after we were still giggling obnoxiously at two in the morning.

I shake my head, not even bothering to hide the friendly smile that grows on my face. "It was perfect, thank you. And, good morning to both of you," I say, making my way into the kitchen. "Do we have any orange juice?" I ask hopefully as I walk to the refrigerator.

Connor grunts at the question. "Only if Wally didn't drink it all." The sound of him closing his books comes from behind me as I continue my search for the famous rectangular orange carton. "He doesn't even live here and he still eats everything in his path," Connor mumbles, piling his work together into a neat stack.

Ending my search for the drink by closing the fridge door quietly, I turn to Megan. "Do you need help with anything? You look like you could use an extra pair of hands."

The green skinned girl stops stirring her mixture and sighs with relief at my offer. "Thank you _so_ much. If you could make the pancakes that would be awesome, and I'll get started on the fruit salad." Megan hands me the large bowl as she mentally pulls out a cutting board and an unsafe-looking sharp knife.

After successfully making eight normal-sized pancakes, and with the bowl of batter more than half full, I turn to Megan, confused. "Why so many pancakes: Are you going to feed an army?"

The Martian continues to dice the variety of fruit on the cutting board and then psychokinetically moves the fruit into a bowl as she answers my question. "In case if any of them were to burn, and of course, leftovers for anybody who is hungry throughout the day." She pauses for a moment, thinking about what she said, and grins, "Or throughout the week, perhaps."

It doesn't take a super genius to figure out that she is mentioning the appearance of the rest of the team.

Once everything is finished baking and Connor has cleared and washed the island, the three of us eat in a peaceful silence, except for making basic small talk every once in awhile that carries to the end of our successful somewhat non-burnt meal.

Just as the three of us are finishing cleaning up our breakfast adventure, the computer recognizes Black Canary entering the cave. She walks into the kitchen, dressed in normal civilian clothes. Canary greets us with a warm smile and asks us about our night after everybody had left.

"I realized I had homework to do about eleven last night after training with Kaldur," Connor says bitterly, his face focused on the book he was studying, nearly snapping his pencil in half with frustration.

While Megan and I put the leftover food away into the refrigerator, enough food to feed an army and then a Flash, presumably a Kid Flash, Megan responds with a friendly smile. "Blair and I didn't go to sleep until about one in the morning!" she exclaims.

"Yes," I say nodding my head. "it was a very interesting night." I answer vaguely, remembering the two of us throwing couch cushions and pillows alike at each other while snagging cookies and brownies along the way. Not to mention Connor's pet wolf deciding to play with us, and scareing the life of me when it knocked me to the ground before a pillow could smack me in the face.

It was the first time in a long time where I spent my night having fun with a friend instead of doing my homework.

With an approving smile, Canary places her hands on her hips, "I'm glad that at least two of the three were able to have an exciting night." Megan and I nod our heads.

"The one thing that the G-gnomes could have taught me was geometry," Connor snarls viciously, before the final _snap_ of his pencil. He growls something unrecognizable as he angrily packs his stuff up and begins to walk away.

"Connor, wait one moment, " Canary says, and to our surprise, the Kryptonian clone pauses at the doorway, turns, and walks back to stand next to Megan.

A coy smile dances on Canary's face. "Connor, Megan, would you two like to join Blair and I to go to northern Maryland so that she can get measured for her costume?"

Biting my lower lip, I silently watch the alien couple decide their fate for the day. And for all that I know, their second option would to simply hang around the cave doing nothing. Or train. And frankly, I would chose the latter

Megan turns to Connor, a cheerful grin growing on her bright green face. She clasps her hands together, as if she were begging him to participate. Her enthusiasm on joining Canary and I brings Connor to agree with a shrug of his thick shoulders.

The three of us leave through front entrance, the entrance that I came through just yesterday. Parked on the grass, just a few feet from the grassy ramp, is a very large black vehicle.

"I normally use a motorcycle for when I travel. But it just recently got… Run over by a drunk driver a few nights ago," Canary begins. "And this is my rental for the next, what seems like forever, until the idiot replaces my bike." The bitter voice of my mentor leaves chills down my spine.

A definite 'note to self' moment: Do not destroy any of my mentor's belongings, especially her two wheeled vehicles.

The blonde hero sighs with contentment. "And for this trip, I figured that we could use a bit of leg room."

Beside me, Megan frowns, confused. "Why don't we use the bio-sip? We could get there faster, and we won't have to worry about traffic." The teen gives Canary a hopeful smile in changing vehicles, but instead our elder shakes her head.

"Edna, who we're seeing, she's a very futuristic woman, but us using a foreign space craft might be bit far-fetched for her liking," Canary explains, beginning to walk over to her beast of a rental vehicle. She looks at us over her shoulder and a dark smile dances across her pale features. "Besides, I like driving."

The three of us cautiously pile into the car.

The journey is filled with light conversations encouraged by Megan, as she is determined to get to know every single detail about me. She continuously fires questions, her curiosity growing every time I answer. Every once in awhile, Connor and Black Canary put in their two cents, especially when Megan asks me which school I attend. When I snort and cross my arms over my chest before I gave my answer, I notice how Canary glances into the rearview window directly at me, and raises an eyebrow.

"Happy Harbor High School," I mumble, staring at the back of the passenger seat. Megan, who is sitting beside me, squeals with joy sounding just like a five year old that has been given candy. I look at her with my eyes wide in shock. "What?"

Speaking up in a calm matter, Connor says, "We go to the same school."

I mutter a simple, "Oh," as my answer, with a very dumbfounded expression on my face. "Does that mean that we've already met before? Have we seen each other at school?"

"We might have a math class together," Megan says, looking at me. The moment she speaks, I can feel the blood drain from my face.

I don't say anything for some time, trying to piece together my memories in my math class from the past week. "Third hour?" I ask, for clarification.

"Yup."

"And, you were there when… I left?"

"Yeah, you seemed pretty upset," Megan says. "What happened?"

I turn away from her stare, biting on the inside of my cheek, and squeezing my eyes shut. "It was nothing," I mumble, glaring at the scenery. "I handled it."

The memory of _him_, Tyler, with his sad gray eyes and floppy, soft brown hair as he informs me that our relationship has expired because of his future plans to join the military: Me waiting around for him was something he didn't want me to do.

"_It's a waste of your time, Blair," he explained, his smooth voice trying to make me see through his eyes. "You shouldn't have to wait for me when I go to basic or at all when I'm deployed."_

"_But what if I want to, Tyler? What if that's my choice?" I cried out. I held his gaze, "What if…What if we can make it work while you're gone?" I was desperate to hold onto anything that he could say, but any of his words or promises for our future was gone._

_I watched him close his eyes, and breathe in silence. I waited until he opened his eyes and spoke to me for the last time under our broken relationship. "Blair, you knew this was going to happen, soon than later," he says, taking hold of my arms. He tries to look at me, to really break me down further, but somehow I find comfort in retreating as I look down at my shoes. "You knew this was going to happen," he repeats quietly._

"_The year is still young! We still have a few months left to be together," I explain, my voice breaking at the end, the threat of tears wells up in my eyes. "You don't have to do this yet."_

_Tyler's grip on my arms loosened and he wraped me up in a hug that I never wanted to escape from. "It's better this way," he whispers into my ear._

_I opened my mouth, the words threatening to spill out, but they never come. Instead, I find warmth in his embrace and coldness when he leaves me behind._

The car ride after our conversation is silent; no one says a word as we speed down the interstate, leaving Rhode Island and entering the border line of Maryland. Sometime during the heavy silence, I drift into a dreamless sleep. At some point during the travel, Canary had turned on the radio and the lyrics of a blue grass song floated around in my mind. The end result had me falling asleep on the window.

My eyes flutter open when we come to a stop at a very, very fancy red laser gate. On my right, Megan has too fallen asleep. The only difference was that she is resting her head on Connor's shoulder, and the side of my face was on the window.

Black Canary rolls down her own window, and she tells the guard that she has an appointment. The sound of a dull buzz rings in my ears and the gate pulls apart, allowing Canary's giant vehicle enterence.

Connor, Megan, and I walk down a wide hallway, following Canary and a rather short woman dressed in black, named Edna Mode. Her hair, also black, is cropped short above her narrow shoulders, and along her forehead the designer has also donned a very sixties-like fringe. Resting on her nose are a pair of circular black glasses. I come to realize that there is a pattern with her choice of color.

As we walk down the hall, Edna talks to Black Canary, or Dinah, as she called her, her voice full of excitement as she gushes about ideas for my costume. However, Edna makes it very clear that I am not to wear a cape. Moments later, we are bypassing Edna's security, and the small woman leads us into her studio.

The room itself is incredibly organized. Fabrics of every color line the back wall, starting from the brightest to darkest hue of every color. Machines of various sizes stand on the far left-hand corner of the room. On the opposite side sits a work bench that is cleared off and ready for a new project.

"Alright, Dahling, front and center," says Edna, pointing to the small stage-like platform in the middle of the room. I nod my head mutely and take my place in front my new friends and mentor.

Edna circles me silently. "Lift your arms, good, and straighten your back," she says, with the a curt nod of her head. I do as she says, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. A moment later, Edna whips out a yellow tape and begins to measure my body.

The procedure takes all but a good ten minutes from start to finish, top to bottom. Edna has even asked what size shoe I am. Best of all, she has moved me to some kind of machine that stands roughly six feet tall.

After Edna presses a few buttons, two silver bars on the higher part of the contraption spread apart and lower to my height.

"Put your head in the space, Dear," Edna instructs. Cautiously, I do so, leaning so that my face touches either side of the bars. Below me, Edna presses a few more buttons, and a blue light scans my face. It beeps a couple times, and then the bars spread farther out to release my face and rise to where they had originally started.

I blink my eyes, and turn to Edna. "What was that for?" I ask.

The designer smiles a very wide, toothy smile. "You want a mask to hide your identity, yes? This machine scans your face and sends a copy to that machine over there to make a mold so that I can create a mask."

"Oh, well, thank you."

"Anytime, Darling." Edna turns to Superboy. "You will also need a new suit, since you don't have one."

Connor shakes his head and crosses his arms aver his thick chest. "I don't need a cape and tights to get the job done."

"Oh?" Edna takes off her glasses, cleans them with a loose fabric on the wall, and replaces the object back on her face. "In order to take your job seriously, an efficient costume will be necessary." She smiles, as if she's won the short argument.

"Come back in a few days, Dinah, your girls' suit will be ready," says Edna, dismissing us out the door. "On second thought, I'll call you."

We say our goodbyes and leave through an exit that gives us a straight route to where Dinah parked her car.

We head back to the car, and Canary…or Dinah, laughs. "Well, that was surprisingly short," she says, unlocking the car.

"Why is that?" Megan asks, her voice hinting at curiosity.

Dinah opens her car door, and shrugs her shoulders, "More than likely, E already has a design she wants to use."

We return to the cave to find Kaldur and Red Arrow talking about the future mission. Holographic screens of maps, exits, roads, faces, names, titles with articles and sorts of images are displayed around the two heroes as they discuss a plan.

Megan tells me that I should join them. "You need to know that information because you're going with Red Arrow anyways." I look back to Dinah, who nods her head in agreement. Connor just walks past us in the direction towards the living room, grunting about needing to finish his homework and lost time. Canary squeezes my shoulder, an offer of light comfort before she follows Megan to the gym.

They leave my behind, paralyzed.

Mustering up my courage, I work up my inner strength to walk over and talk to the guys.

"So, is this the planning of the mission phase…?" I query. My voice comes out strong, but as the end of the sentence progresses, the uncertainty begins to slip in. "Or something," I add in a whisper.

Kaldur nods his head while Roy completely ignores me silently. "Yes, we are coming up with an idealistic plan that you will be able to follow."

I nod my head, looking at the map. "So, what do you have so far?"

Roy speaks up, and turns to look at me. I watch as he crosses his arms over his chest andbegins to explain what he thinks is best.

"My plan is to take out the guards while you tag along, watching my back," Roy says. "You need to observe before engaging in battle. Even though I am still unsure of you going, the job that you will have will be simple, especially for a total newbie like yourself."

I furrow my brow, unsure if this is a compliment or not. "Okay, well, I'll work on my 'look out' skills." I look over the maps once more, trying to memorize them. After a moment, I speak up: "What time are you picking me up?"

Roy, flabbergasted, narrows his eyes. "Six- thirty- the Shadows are stealing the ring Wednesday night. And you need time to prepare a perimeter before we are able to stop them and then destroy the ring. Hopefully, you'll have your gear by then."

I send him a cheeky smile, and chirp, "Fantastic." I turn towards the kitchen. "Six-thirty, got it." I give the two guys a single wave of my hand as I to start walk away.

I meet up with Black Canary in the weight room, where she is spotting Connor as he's benching some very heavy looking weights.

"How did it go?" Canary asks, looking up from her steady watch on the bar that's being lifted and lowered by Connor.

I shrug my shoulders as I take a seat on a bench across from Supey and our mentor. "It went fine," I answer. When I look up, Connor has placed the bar on its perch and left for the showers without saying a word.

Canary follows my gaze, and a motherly-like smile tugs at the corners of lips. "He's a smart kid," she says, before slipping into the bench Connor had worked out on.

"So," she begins, placing her elbows on her knees and leaning forward. "What happened?"

I find myself gnawing on the inside of my cheek before answering, "They just told me the basics of the plan and Roy told me the day and time."

Across from me, I watch Canary nod her head in approval. "He's giving you a chance," she says slowly. "It'll take some time for Roy to get used to a partner, but he'll warm up soon enough.

My eyes grow wide. "I thought it was just this one job?"

"It is, don't worry," she answers, laughing softly. "Anyways, I think it's about time I get some one–on-one training with you."

I follow Canary into a wrestling-like room, where she kicks off her boots and sheds her sweater to reveal a simple t-shirt. I take my mentor's lead and I also take off my shoes and leave them by the door.

The next hour is a hasty blur. Canary has efficiently finished her lesson on the balance technique with me, and surprisingly, I have excelled. She's also taught me some basic fighting forms that I'm to practice at home. Canary has somehow managed to make me do so many push-ups and crunches that it feels as if my core is on fire. By the time we've finished, it's nearly seven at night, and a heavy layer of sweat covers my body. Every movement I make, my limbs rejected heavily.

Black Canary picks up her sweater and pulls on her boots, as we're finished here for tonight. "Blair, why don't you head home? The teleporter is working at coordinates three blocks from your home."

"Will do- I'm soaking in the tub tonight," I respond, rolling onto the mat and lazily slipping my feet into my shoes. "I have a math test tomorrow, and I'm not giving up another minute to not study if I can help it."

Leaving Canary, I limply race to my room to pack my bag. As I reach the metal door of my room, I quickly realize my error as the muscles in my legs and in my sides scream in agony. Once I accomplish the feat of opening my door, I collapse to my hands and knees and began to slowly move towards my backpack so I can shove all its contents back into it, except for a hoodie that I pull on. Rolling onto my back, I decide that this extensive work outs with Canary is probably best for my physical health in the long run, despite the fact that it is incredibly difficult for me to breathe at all.

I meet up with Black Canary in the large living room/kitchen area, where she is laying on the couch, eyes closed with an icepack laying across her shins. I take a seat on the coffee table and poke the woman in her shoulder. When she opens her eyes and raises an eyebrow, I don't hesitate to ask her about my 'hero name'.

"If it's something for the team to call me by, then it has to be important. Right? And I'm going to need it before my mission on Wednesday." I don't leave a silent moment as I explain to Canary that I want something badass and a name that will fit me.

I watch my mentor tap a finger on her chin, and for a moment she is in a thoughtful trance. "Well, right now, your id number is B08, and your unofficial name is the Inferno, which to me is very masculine. Fortunately for you, that can be changed to something feminine like "Inferna or Infernette," Canary smiles, "And if you ever want to change your name, since you are new and you haven't met with the media, when you leave the cave, the computer will recognize you, just say your new name, your id number and update. And when you enter the cave next time that is how you will be known."

Once Canary fell silent, and her gaze meets mine, a smile dances across my lips. "I like those two, but for now, I think I'm going to sleep on it to make a choice." I thank my mentor for her time and take my leave to the mission room.

There, I see Kaldur and Roy, still talking from this afternoon, their backs facing me: The still images that have been projected since I returned to the Cave have illuminated the two young men in a light blue light.

Sneakily coming up behind and around the guy's walks, I make my way towards the zeta beam teleporter.

"See ya later guys, I'm going home… through a teleporter!" My voice squeaks with excitement, as I have never done such a thing. Kaldur, with a polite smile, waves to me, while Roy looks up and nods his head in acknowledgement of my presence. I don't let a scowl come across my face from his over-enthusiasm.

I turn to the teleporter, and the computer instantly recognizes me. "Recognized, the Inferno B08" I straighten my back and close my eyes as the golden light takes me away.

It takes me a moment, but I was able to recognize where I was so strategically placed- inside an abandoned phone booth in an alley behind the local super market. I step out of the old contraption, place the other strap of my backpack onto my shoulder, and begin the twenty minute walk home, wishing the pain in my legs would fade.

About ten paces away from the booth, the teleporter begins to shine with its familiar bright, golden light. After the light fades, I look over my shoulder; I am able to make out the very manly figure that's appeared to be Red Arrow in civilian clothes. I freeze in my tracks, my breath sticking in my throat.

He walks up to me in a controlled pace. "Kal wanted him to make sure you got home safely." His voice is stiff, border lining on annoyance.

Stunned, I barely respond with, "Oh, well, okay. Uhm, this way, then." When I turn back around to face my destination, I swear I can see a brief upturn of Roy's mouth.

"My house is only a couple miles away," I say, looking over my shoulder to see a very definitely non-smiling tall ginger.

We walk in a comfortable silence, side-by-side on the sidewalk. The night time breeze coasts through the air and for a moment, I am thankful for my extra layer of clothing.

The once tolerable silence grows to become unbearable and almost poisonous to my health, and I can't help but stop in my tracks.

"Okay, this needs to stop," I say forcefully, putting my hands up in a stopping gesture. Roy stops walking and turns to me, confused.

"Was it something I said?" he asks, with a cocky grin that takes over his face. I can't help but laugh because it's funny, but still, it makes me want to hit him.

I shake my head, feeling distressed. "No. _It's what you didn't say_," I explain, shoving my hands into the pocket of my hoodie.

Roy raises an eyebrow. "Well, what do you want me to say?" His eyes narrow suddenly. "To be honest, there is nothing to talk about."

"Nothing?" I scoff, pulling up the hood up over my head as a burst of icy November wind whips around us. "We can start with introductions, because last time was terrible."

Roy nods his head. "Right." He takes out his right hand from his panst pocket and extends it to me. "Hi, I'm Harper. Roy Harper." He does this weird James Bond voice, and it makes me laugh involuntarily again, and I don't care.

I take his hand in mind and give it a firm shake. "I'm Blair Wainwright," I murmur around a nervous giggle. My hand slips away from his, and we return to our silence as we walk to our destination through the icy wind.

Moments pass, and I speak up again, avoiding the silence that threatens to break any form of friendship that might grow between us. "So… How long have you done this… hero thing?" I ask, looking up at him.

Roy doesn't respond at first, and I begin to think he's ignoring me. I open my mouth to say something snooty when he cuts me off. "You need to clarify," he says with a blank expression. "From the beginning, as I started out as Speedy, or this solo thing I do now."

I quickly jump in with my answer. "Both. From the time you started as Speedy and then 'evolved' into Red Arrow."

"That… is a long story," Roy says flatly.

With a daring voice and slowing my pace, I say, "We have about a good twenty minutes if we walk slowly."

Roy doesn't say anything for a moment, and when he begins his story, I find myself feeling slightly melancholy.

He was an only child living with a single father, who worked as a forest ranger. The two lived on an Indian reservation. He went to school there, had plenty of friends. When his father died in a forest fire that ate nearly half of the reservation, the Navajo medicine chief who'd been friends with Roy's dad took in the young boy and taught him to use a bow and a quiver full of arrows.

"Brave Bow was more of a father to me than my own father or Green Arrow," he says quietly. I am so tempted to grab his hand when he pauses, but I hold back, biting the inside of my cheek as we continue to walk.

The day that Brave Bow had moved on to the spirit world, Roy decided to participate in an archery competition in memory of his first mentor. The winning money would go directly to the tribe. When he arrived at the competition days later, he went ahead through the rounds, one by one, until he held the trophy of a golden arrow. With the victory money in a form of a large check tucked into the deepest part of his wallet, Roy began to make his way back to his tribe, but somehow his future guardian caught up to the young ginger before he'd completed his trek.

"Oliver caught up to me and gave me an offer I couldn't refuse." Clearing his throat, he continues, "The money was given to the new chief, I packed my bag, leaving behind my past and walking into my new life."

Magically, I manage to stay silent during the first part of his story, holding onto every word that falls from his lips before they escape into the wind, never to be heard of again. His voice is smooth as he places emotion into each phrase that is necessary to carry the story to a new height. He continues with his story, making it short and sweet and speaking of everything up to the present: How he broke the partnership off between him and his guardian, how he's realized how hard solo work is, and what it means to have friends that share the same or similar goals as you.

Eventually, I find myself stopping in front of my large empty house, unsure if I should be depressed with the end of the comfortable friendship that's been sprouting up between Roy and me, or feel wickedly pleased to leave wind that has frozen the skin on my face.

Somehow, we turn to face each other, keeping a safe distance to remain friendly.

Roy looks down at me, and for the first time, even in the moonlight, I'm able to see that he has dark blue eyes. "Looks like story is over."

"It doesn't have to be," I whisper, just as the wind picks up speed and whips between us.

"Next time you can tell me your life story."

"Another walk in the cold wind?" I laugh bitterly. "No thanks."

Roy walks me up my driveway, and we're standing on my front porch, and even though the air is undeniably freezing and threatening to snow, the wind doesn't touch us.

"Not even with me?" Roy feigns a pain in his heart as he grasps his chest and soon after I can feel the heat on my face from a blush.

A sly grin dances across my face and I let it stay, not bothering to hide it. I shrug my shoulders as I try to come up with words that are worthy of voicing.

"Especially with you." The words slip out before I can stop them. I quickly attempt to cover the sudden outburst. "Hey, wanna come in and get something to drink before you head out?" I bite my lip, hoping he won't notice the cover up, but he does, and he's laughing. Whether it's at me or with me, I don't dare to ask. So instead, I raise an eyebrow.

When he stops, Roy opens his mouth as if to say something, and then closes it. The tall teen shakes his head. "Pass, I've got to get back to Star City. Duty calls."

"It's the least I can do for you." Reason: I can do that. "You walked me home, and I didn't even have to ask or beg." I wrap my arms around myself, and the entrance to my home looks more enticing the longer I stand out here in the cold. I don't dare to use my powers, in case I lose control, or something terrible happens.

In a flat, monotonous voice, Roy responds, "I like begging."

It takes a minute before I understand what he has said. I blink my eyes a few times, and then I laugh. Tears are surfacing to my eyes. I hug my sides, holding myself together as I manage to gasp out an, "I don't want to know," between giggles.

"Blair…" He says my name slowly, as if I'm a broken toy that can't be fixed. "It's really not that funny."

"Yeah, I know," I say, straightening myself up. I take a deep breath, and reach for the door "Well, I'll see you Wednesday then." My voice comes out dismissive and vacant.

"At six thirty."

I watch him turn to leave, watch him as he walks down the steps off my concrete porch.

"Got it."

I dig in the flower pot next to the door for the spare key so that I can go inside and shelter myself before the storm hits.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi guys...<strong>

**four months later and I update. :D Sorry about that. Anyways, Uhm... I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, thank you so much for reading. It's super duper long. I want to mention that I do not know if this story follows the young justice story line or it is just a spin off, if you would like to put in your opion please leave a review about which path I should take. I Have the basic storyline and everything, I just don't know which path to take. Left or right. I'm in the middle of the fork road. Aghhh. Also, this chapter is very narrative like and very fast-paced. I don't know if this is just my style and if I have to improve, or I just have to improve my writing in general, so any constructive criticism would be very helpful and appreciated. Last but definitely not least, I would like to thank my amazing friend and beta read TwilightWarrior88 for helping me improve my tenses and anything that was out of whack. **

**Also, lovely readers, Go watch the Hunger Games. Read the book first, but go watch it. I'm seeing the movie today In Imax with my family. **

**May the Odds be_ ever_ in your favor. **

**~Serenity.**


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